Five Times Bones Lost Jim And The One Time He Got To Keep Him
by EnjoyTheCarnage
Summary: You are the piece of me I wish I didn't need; Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why; If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?


_AN: So, origionally I was going to make all of this in one chapter, buuuut I was convinced otherwise by my lovely beta person who demanded that this be posted NOWNOWNOWNOW._

_So._

_Love it like I do?_

XOXO

If our love is tragedy why are you my remedy?

If our love is insanity why are you my clarity?

XOXO

1)

The first time they met, it was kind of an accident devised by fate (who Leonard _would_ be having words with later; the crazy, antagonistic pain in the ass who can't seem to figure out when to leave well enough alone), and the only time that Jim was a Jamie. A prostitute in London in 1888 was a bad idea all together, but it turned downright catastrophic when Jamie Kendal was involved. The girl had the _most_ magnetic personality that Leonard had ever seen, to this day –future Jims having been put through far too much crap to be _quite_ that… Jamielike –. No one was able to resist her, let alone a psychopathic serial killer who already had a taste for pretty hookers.

And Jamie _was_ certainly pretty.

Unfortunately for Jack The Ripper (the number one _bane of Leonard's ridiculously long existence)_ she was also just a tad more trouble than she was really worth. She was smart enough not to eat or drink anything offered to her by a client, and resourceful enough to turn the door of the carriage into a weapon, opening it sharply and closing the man's fingers in the hinges before she leaped from the contraption all together, landing on the cobblestone and running as fast as her (mens) boots would carry her, straight to the police station. Straight into the chest of Leonard who was just leaving for the night.

"Miss? Miss, what's the matter?"

She couldn't talk, she was shaking so hard that her teeth were clacking. Not a single tear fell, however. She was too well put together for that. You had to be, on the streets of London, selling your body. Anything less would get you killed.

As she just demonstrated.

"The Ripper." She managed, turning to point behind her. "I… I got away."

Jamie Kendal, as it turned out, was just as big of a piece of work as the other incarnations of her would be. Once she got over her original freak-out, as Leonard would learn to call it, she was just as much an open book as Jim Kirk would be hundreds of years later.

"An' then the bugger lunges! Jus' up and leaps at me like some kind of toad! So I take the door and crush 'is fingers in the 'inges. Bastard screams and I jump out onto the street. Then I came 'ere." She crossed her arms over her (ample and bursting out of her too-tight corset) chest, blowing a lock of dirty golden hair out of her face defiantly .

"Did you see his face, Miss. Kendal?"

"Ma name is Jamie, an' I ain't no miss, Mr. McCoy." She sighed though, bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes, smearing dirt across her milk white skin. "An' I didn't see nuttin. Sorry."

"It's not your fault, Mi – Jamie. I'm just glad you're okay."

Jamie snorted then, a dark, disbelieving look crossing her face. A look Leonard would learn well. "Wot do you care 'bout me? I'm just a dir'y prostitute."

"I care because I'm not a Mister, I'm a Doctor." He sent her a small smile, "I care about everyone, no matter the hand that fate has dealt them."

Eyes as blue as the sky (on the occasion the sky was visible in London) stared him down from across the table. "Tha's real nice, Doctor McCoy, bu' if you 'as nuttin else you needs me for, I 'as a job to do if I wants to pay me rent or eat."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be on the streets… You got away, he's not going to take that lightly."

"An' I'm gonna be on the streets a 'ole lot more if I don't 'ave money to pay rent. My landlord will kick me out in a second flat."

"We can put you in protective custody until The Ripper is caught."

"You 'ave nuttin at all on 'im! I'm not going to be locked up with some gitty copper 'o 'll judge me and me work the 'ole time!" Jamie's face, normally pretty on its own, absolutely shined when she was angry.

Leonard blinked, taken aback. Any other prostitute in London would jump at the offer; food, a warm bed to sleep in, all without the gross indignity of selling themselves for a shilling or two. Jamie Kendal got downright angry and seemed to think there was more indignity in accepting his offer than her lifestyle.

"Jamie, I cannot allow you back on the streets. Not in good conscience."

"Wot are you gonna do? Lock me up?!" Jamie stood, tossing her long mane of hair behind her, "I'm leaving."

"Jamie!" Leonard stood as well, reaching out to put a hesitant hand on her arm, bare from where her dress had apparently ripped when she leaped from the carriage. "Please… You can even come with me. I'll be that "gitty copper". Just don't go back into the lion's den with a meat necklace."

Jamie's lips twitched and a moment later she was laughing so hard she was wiping tears from her eye. "That… Was the worst… 'ow did you even..?" She dissolved into laughter again.

Leonard tried his best to frown, but if Jamie was pretty normally, and shining when she was angry, she was the sun when she laughed. He grinned reluctantly. "Dammit woman, I'm a Doctor, not a bloody writer."

"That's fer sure." Jamie was still giggling, even as she met his eyes and accepted his offer.

XOXO

"Bloody 'ell!" Jamie stomped out of Leonard's washroom, wearing nothing but a thin towel as her wet hair stuck to her face, neck, and shoulders. "Doctor! Doctor, we're both imbeciles."

Leonard, who had been in the process of preparing them food, peeked his head out of the kitchen, eyes widening slightly at the sight of her, wet and free of all the dirt and makeup she had been caked in. "How so?"

"I forgot to grab me some clothes." She explained, with a red blush staining her cheeks. "An' me pills."

"Just wear something of mine… and what pills? I am a Doctor."

Jamie whispered something he couldn't hear, her eyes lowering to the floor. "Jus' forget I said anythin'." She looked up quickly, sliding a smile over her face. "So, clothes?"

It wasn't until much later, after they'd eaten and Jamie was curled up on his sofa with one of his books ("You can read?" Leonard had asked in surprise, leaving Jamie to blush to the roots of her gold hair. "Me mum… She taught me when I's was real lil. I kept up with it, is all…"), wearing one of his smaller shirts, which still hung down to her knees, with a tie from one of his robes around her middle, that Leonard realized what was going on. And he nearly fainted.

"You're taking Aresnic!" He whispered, looking up sharply from the days paper. "Jamie, why would you…"

"Because the rate for blonde, tan prostitutes is nuttin…" Only her eyes raised from the book, "They all want the dark 'aired, pale ones… I almost dyed me 'air a number of times…"

The paper was forgotten on the table next to Leonard's chair as he stood, making his way to the sofa and dropping down beside Jamie, watching the way she flinched away from him, as if she expected him to hurt her.

"Jamie…" He tried, words failing him. He was no good with words. Never was. "I…" He sighed, leaning back against the cushions and throwing an arm around the Jamie's shoulders, hand landing on the one farthest from him and squeezing, ignoring the way she tensed. "I think you're pretty damn great as you are, alright? And when we get you out of this mess, we'll tackle the next one."

"And wot's the next one?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Getting your arse off the streets. You deserve better."

Jamie finally relaxed against him, leaning to rest her forehead against his collarbone. She was close enough that he could see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, and she smelled like his soap and something that reminded Leonard of sunshine after a rainstorm. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It surprised both of them when she kissed him, long and sweet and full on the mouth. "Thank you. For 'elping me." She whispered when she finally pulled away, cheeks pink and a small pleased smile on her face, before she leaned in to kiss him again, small hands weaving into the curling hair at the nape of Leonard's neck as she moved to press herself closer.

Leonard's hands settled on her waist while he tried to figure out exactly what was going on and how they had gotten there. He jerked away, carefully pushing Jamie away from him just a fraction, enough that he could think a little more rationally, but not enough for her to think he didn't want her.

He did.

Just not because she thought she owed him something.

"Leonard?" Her blue eyes opened, eyebrow furrowed in confusion. "Wot's wrong?"

"Nothing… Well… something. You're not… because you think you need to pay me or something for helping you, right? This is purely because you want to?"

Jamie reached up a hand to push his hair out of his eyes. "Purely because I wan' to." She agreed.

"Even though we've known each other for about six hours?"

"Even though we've known each other for abou' six 'ours."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Bones, now ar' you goin' to kiss me or wot?" Her eyes glittered teasingly, lips curling invitingly as she leaned in close. "Huh?"

Oh, "or wot" wasn't even an option at this point.

What goes up must come down. Leonard knew this, even as he raced through London's dirtiest alleys, looking for someone, anyone, who might have seen Jamie. She was supposed to be gone for an hour and a half, supposed to meet him at the tavern she pointed out to him at three o'clock sharp.

It was five, and there was no sign of her.

A small part of him, the dark part that he tried to pretend he didn't have, whispered that she had left him, run away because she didn't actually want to leave the street. But that was ridiculous and the rest of him quickly told that part to shut its bloody mouth.

He came to the apartment that the landlord, a redheaded man who looked at the other women around far too leeringly for Leonard's liking, had said was Jamie's. The door was open, the lock broken, and blood on the floor. Not a lot, thank the Lord. But still, there was blood and that was enough to send Leonard staggering back, using the dresser behind him to brace himself. Paper crinkled under her fingers.

_Yu wanr her bak? Find me wer it al started, coper._

_Jack_

Where it all started… Leonard thought back to the previous murders. The first murder. Mary Ann Nichols, on Buck's Row. Whitechapel.

Leonard was out the door and running against before he even finished connecting the pieces.

Whitechapel was always a shoddy place, but the one thing any bit of it never was, was empty. Buck's Row was completely devoid of any and all life. Had been since Nichols' body had been found.

Not that Leonard really gave a damn about Mary Ann Nichols at that point.

"Jamie!" He called, slowing to a walk. "Jamie, where are you?" Muffled screaming from the right. Leonard turned.

Jamie was on the ground, wrists and ankles bound, a strip of cloth across her mouth, and a bleeding gash on her forehead. There were tears on her face and her blue eyes were tinted red from the salt.

Leonard was by her side in a second, pulling away the gag and working on the knot binding her wrists. "I've got you, darlin'." He mumbled as she sobbed openly. "You're ok."

"J-Jack! Leonard it a woman." Jamie gasped, trying to pull herself back together as Leonard moved to her ankles. "A Doctor! S-she… all those woman 'ad abortions. She can't 'ave kids, Leonard. She's so jealous it drove 'er mad!"

"All those… Did you?"

"No!" Jamie looked positively affronted, even in her trussed, teary state. "I would never. I was a mistake. She thought I was someone else…" Jamie broke off, staring behind Leonard with wide, terrified blue eyes. Then Leonard was being shoved out of the way, his shoulder cracking painfully on the hard ground.

One gunshot, then Jamie gasped and Leonard saw her fall out of the corner of his eye.

Another shot rang and it took Leonard a second to register that it had been _him_ that fired, he hadn't even realized that he had pulled his pistol from his jacket, and that the dark haired woman standing six feet from him was toppling to the ground, red blood blossoming in the white fabric of her shirt.

Jamie was on the ground. Jamie was gasping for air. That was Jamie's blood making up the growing puddle around her.

Leonard scrambled to her side, pressing his hand to the wound to try and stop the bleeding. The gunshot wound. In her neck.

"Jamie…" He whispered, tears stinging his eyes as he realized there was _nothing_ he could do, even as he pressed harder, willing the blood to stop. He knew it wouldn't. She was going to bleed out, was more than likely most of the way there even though the first shot had rang out less than a minute ago.

She tried to say something, but it came out as a sickly gurgle as blood spattered her lips. Instead she lifted a tiny, pale, bloody hand to Leonard's cheek, trying for a weak smile that came out as more of a grimace. She moved her fingers to his lips, tracing the shape of them and staining them with her blood.

Her strength was fading, Leonard knew that as the second minute passed. Even with his hands trying to stem the bleeding she was losing it fast and would be… would be dead in another minute, maybe a minute and a half.

Jamie's hand trailed to his chest, where the top three buttons were still undone from where she had unbuttoned them that morning, rolling her eyes and telling him to loosen up. His tie was still draped across his bedpost. Her eyes narrowed as she focused intently on the lines she was making. After a moment she relaxed, dropping her hand to her side, finally satisfied.

Leonard couldn't make words. Didn't bother to try. He just leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, cheeks, jaw, closed eyelids. Only when her breath stopped and her body went limp did he press his lips to hers, feeling the tears drip from his clenched eyelids.

He managed to flag someone down to gather the rest of the police, having to go two streets over before any sign of life became apparent, and was sitting with Jamie's head in his lap again, using the edge of his already soiled shirt to clear the blood away from her face.

He didn't even remember Jamie's concentration on his chest in those final moments of his life. Not until he got home and saw himself in the washroom mirror and saw what had held her attention so thoroughly.

**_I LOVE YOU_**

Scrawled in messy, drying letters on his skin in Jamie's blood.

_AN: Wow I adore this_

_Jack The Ripper is my baby 3_

_And in case anyone wondering about the arsenic... prostitutes used to use it in small increments to make themselves paler._


End file.
